


country roads (take me home)

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Autistic Character, College AU, F/M, Gen, Library AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: Betty Cooper was blonde and quiet and beautiful and had the most perfect taste in books of anyone Jughead had ever met. She had always spent a lot of time in the library, this was a small school and everyone knew everyone by sight, but she had a night class this semester, and thus was often there late, which was usually when Jughead worked. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, she would come in a little before nine with a cup of hot tea and a piece of fruit, and hide away in one of the wood study carrols.





	country roads (take me home)

As far as work study positions go, Jughead had kind of lucked out. The campus library was open late, he could pick his hours, it was quiet, and he could people watch. Stressed college students studying for exams were excellent inspiration for novel writing. When it was really slow, Jughead could even get homework done. But lately, he’d been distracted. This in and of itself was not unusual, but the source of his distraction was, and he knew if his roommate figured it out he’d never hear the end of it, so Jughead kept his mouth shut about Elizabeth ‘Betty’ Cooper.

Betty Cooper was blonde and quiet and beautiful and had the most perfect taste in books of anyone Jughead had ever met. She had always spent a lot of time in the library, this was a small school and everyone knew everyone by sight, but she had a night class this semester, and thus was often there late, which was usually when Jughead worked. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, she would come in a little before nine with a cup of hot tea and a piece of fruit, and hide away in one of the wood study carrols. After awhile, she would emerge, fruit gone, tea in hand, hair down, and browse the books and pick out a few before she left. She was a prolific reader, checking out and returning several finished books a week. 

“Did you know,” she says one Friday evening, as Jughead scans the barcodes on a small pile of Stephen King novels “that Stephen King sells movie rights to his books to new filmmakers for a dollar? Isn’t that amazing?” she smiles at him, and her eyes are so green Jughead doesn’t understand how they’re real. He chokes for a minute, but nods. 

“Yeah, he’s a pretty cool guy, I hear. Did you um, hear about the Talisman movie? I’m pretty nervous about it. I just don’t see how it’s going to translate to a visual medium.” He rubs the back of his neck, nervous. 

“The Talisman?” she tilts her head, and looks at him curiously. Jughead’s face lights up. 

“You haven’t read it? It’s amazing, it was co-written by Peter Straub, and it’s all about family dynamics and alternate dimensions and the role hope plays in our lives. Hold on, I think I have my copy back here, somewhere.” he grins at her and drags a back up from under the desk, the front pocket covered in buttons. 

“Ooh!” Betty says suddenly, then covers her mouth, realizing how loud she just was “You listened to the Black Tapes?” she says, her voice quieter, an eager smile on her face and in her eyes. 

“I loved the Black Tapes. Were you a fan too? It’s such an innovative storytelling experiment, honestly.” Jughead looks up at her to smile before returning to his dig, then pulls out a very beat up paperback triumphantly. “Here. Borrow it. I really think you’ll like it. I see the kind of books you read, since you’re here so late so often.” Jughead blushes slightly, and pushes the worn book across the counter. Betty grins, her face also slightly flushed. 

“I’ll start as soon as I get home. If you liked the Black Tapes, I think I can trust your taste.” she smiles again, and her eyes are twinkling at him as she tucks the library books in her backpack and his copy of The Talisman under her arm. With a little wave, she walks out of the automatic doors, and she’s gone. 

Jughead smiles, and opens his notebook, scrawling character notes for a new section of his novel. 

Back in her dorm room, Betty drops her bag on the couch and turns to her roommate and best friend, holding the book out with the utmost drama. 

“I talked to the cute student librarian today.” Betty says smiling over at Cheryl, who’s staring angrily at a psychology textbook. 

“Gasp! Tell me everything.” the redhead grins over at Betty, closing her textbook and crossing her legs, directing her full attention at Betty. If she wasn’t used to it, Betty would honestly be terrified. 

“So I was checking out a bunch of Stephen King novels, for my project,” Betty starts, and Cheryl shakes her head.

“It’s not a project, Betty, it’s just a weird thing you’ve decided to do on top of your already demented credit schedule. Anyway, continue.” 

“Regardless, I was checking them out, and he kind of smiled, and he seemed like the kind of guy who might be into King, so I mentioned the dollar baby project Stephen King does, and he’d heard of it and mentioned some movie that’s being made, and ended up giving me his copy of a book I haven’t read yet.” Betty grinned, brandishing the paperback at Cheryl, who laid a hand to her chest. 

“Well, that’s as good as a proposal from you bookish types, is it not?” she smirked at Betty, who rolled her eyes. 

“Anyway, I’m going to try and read the whole thing this weekend. Oh, and he likes the Black Tapes podcast!” Betty couldn’t help but smile, yet again, and this time it was Cheryl rolling her eyes. 

“Truly, a match made in weirdo-heaven. I’m going to make some tea before bed, would you like some, darling best friend?” Cheryl smiled as she rose to her feet, and Betty nodded. 

“Sounds great. I’m gonna put my pajamas on and get to work on this book.” 

Back in his own dorm room, after the end of his shift, Jughead had barricaded himself in his study corner with his laptop, planning on typing late into the night. But he kept getting distracted, wondering what Betty would think of The Talisman, wondering what her opinion was on how the Black Tapes Podcast had ended, her theories on whether the world was really going to end. He even wondered if, maybe, she might be willing to come with him to his favorite off campus cafe to talk about the book after she finished it. They could get some coffee, some snacks, and talk about books, and podcasts, and maybe other things they liked even. 

Midway through this meandering, Jughead realizes with a start that what he’s imagining is, in fact, a date. Jughead had never fancied himself the romantic or relationship type, and his history with girls included one disastrous date with Ethel Muggs he hadn’t known was a date, and that time he kissed Toni Topaz at an old friend’s birthday party. Technically he kissed her twice, but the second time was years later, they were stoned, and it was a dare, so he didn’t think it really counted. 

Jughead doesn’t think he knows how to go on a date, let alone ask someone on one. He contemplates asking Archie, since he dates a fair amount, but Jughead decides the embarrassment wasn’t worth it. And besides, while Jughead likes his roommate well enough to call him a friend, he isn’t sure Archie wouldn’t hit on Betty himself. This didn’t leave him with many options, since Jughead didn’t exactly have a lot of friends. Sighing, he picks up his phone and makes a call. 

“Jones,” the voice on the other end of the phone says, clearly annoyed “It is the middle of the night.” 

“I know, I know, but you were awake anyway, I know you sleep with your phone on silent.” Jughead stands as he speaks, heading to the kitchen for a snack. 

“What do you need, my resident loner?”

“I need your help, Veronica. With a girl.” Jughead wrinkles his nose as he speaks, and he can feel the chaotic energy coming through his phone. 

“My god, I thought the day would never come. Who is she? Does she go to our school?” 

“Yeah, I see her in the library. Her name’s Betty Cooper?” Jughead pushes waffles into the toaster. 

“Oh my god, I know her!” Veronica said excitedly 

“What.” Jughead blanches. 

“Yeah, she has a hot roommate. I met them at a party, back when I was still with Archie.”

 

“I can’t decide if this is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to me.” Jughead sighed, staring at the toaster. 

“Oh, best, definitely. She’s perfect for you! Honestly, Jughead, I don’t think you even need my help with this.” Veronica says reassuringly. Jughead’s chocolate chip eggos pop out of the toaster.

“Really?” he says, mouth full of waffle.

“Yes. Now let me go to bed, asshole.”

“Night, Ronnie.”

“Night, Jug.” 

He sets his phone down on the counter, but it immediately buzzes. He rolls his eyes, but looks down. It’s a text from Veronica, with Betty’s contact information in it, accompanied by a winky face. 

Jughead saves her number to his phone and goes to bed. 

The next morning, he wakes up to a text from the newly saved number

Betty: Hey, sorry, my roommate knows everyone and gave me your number?  
Betty: I stayed up all night reading, this book is AMAZING.  
Betty: I think I should be finished in an hour or so, do you want to go get coffee and talk about it?  
Jughead: No problem. And yeah, I’d like that. Do you know the little shop off campus, with the scrabble tile menu?  
Betty: I love that place! Meet you at ten?  
Jughead: See you then.  
Betty: Great! It’s a date. :)

Staring at the phone, Jughead tries very hard not to start to panic. It’s fine. Everything is good, really, he just has to throw up a little. It could just be an expression. People say that, they say it all the time. That doesn’t mean she thinks their coffee outing is a date. Or does she? Shit, why is he so bad at this? Sighing, Jughead decides to jump in the shower before he get dressed for the day. 

Betty blinked down at her phone, cursing herself for her turn of phrase. She was totally going to scare him. He’d always struck her as really shy, and how he probably thinks she’s a crazy person. But regardless, he’d agreed to meet her, so now she had to finish this book and go meet up with him. Her hair is style twisted up in a t-shirt from her shower, and she pulls it down, tossing the wet shirt in the laundry. It was a habit she’d picked up from Cheryl, using a shirt instead of a towel because the softer fabric was easier on the hair follicles. She pulled the damp strands into a messy bun, eyes flicking over the pages of the book as she completed the automatic action. As she wrapped up the final chapter, she was pleasantly surprised by the ending. She’d been braced for the worst, it was King after all, but it actually ended happily.

Putting the now finished novel aside, Betty moved to stare into her closet. She hated dressing for these sorts of in between occasions, that weren’t quite one thing, but not quite the other either. It stressed her out, being unsure which script to follow, how formal or casual to look or act. In the end, she settles on a pair of soft blue jeans and a t-shirt Cheryl gave her once that had a truly incomprehensible joke on it. “Grammar? I hardly know her!” the shirt read, which was a joke that only worked phonetically, and just barely then. But it was soft, and the light blue color looked good with her eyes, and maybe Jughead would laugh at it. She tops the whole outfit off with a light grey longline cardigan, one with oversized sleeves and big pockets, to give her something to do with her hands. 

Before she could leave, Betty had a thought. After carefully stashing Jughead’s book in her backpack, she strode across the room and over to her own book shelves. She scanned the titles, trying to think of something a fellow Stephen King and The Black Tapes fan might like, but not necessarily have read. After a few moments hesitation, she pulled a book from the shelf. Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel. It wasn’t necessarily a horror or crime novel, more of an apocalypse narrative, but she thought the humor might appeal to her new companion, and she felt it ended on a similar note to The Talisman. Satisfied, she slid her copy into her bag, and headed for the off campus coffee shop she and Jughead had selected for their meeting. 

Once Betty arrive at the small cafe, she glanced around. She didn’t spot Jughead already there, so she headed to the corner, where her favorite booth sat. It was a small table in a corner, and half of the seat was on the window bench. There were always a few pillows laying against the wall, and it was usually quiet, set back a little from the other tables. Setting her bag down to mark her spot, she went up to the counter, and ordered a cold brew with caramel and room for cream and a scone. As she headed back to her seat, she heard the bells on the front door jingle. 

Jughead’s hair is still damp from the shower under the brim of his beanie. He glances around the cafe, spotting Betty, and waves before heading up to the counter. He orders a black drip coffee and a truly enormous brownie, and wanders back to the table Betty had staked out. She smiled at him, and her cheeks were flushed just a little bit pink and Jughead couldn’t help but grin back at her. 

“Hey.” she said softly.

“Hi.” Jughead sits down across from her. 

They fall into easy conversation about the book, talking about the characters and their motivations, the implications of the alternate dimension, the interesting things the narrative did. She doesn’t always agree with him on things, but she seems to take pleasure in debating him, squinting and smirking as she insists a metaphor has a different wider effect on the text. Of course he meets plenty of people at school who love books and even who love talking about them, but he hasn’t really met anyone who wants to talk about them the same way before Betty. She’s got her hands on either side of her, waving enthusiastically as she discusses the ways in which the rollercoaster at the abandoned theme park serves as a very literal but very interesting metaphor for the hero’s journey. She seems to sense he’s watching her, and she slows her hands down, flushing slightly again. 

“Sorry! I tend to get a little um, loud and carried away.” she smiled apologetically and wrapped her hands around her drink in an attempt to occupy them. 

“No, don’t apologize. It was interesting.” Jughead smiled. 

“I have to admit though, one of my favorite parts was a joke at the very beginning.” Betty said with a chuckle, tearing off a piece of scone to eat. 

“Let me guess,” Jughead smirked. “The McDonald’s joke?”

“Yes! Vulgar, sure, but so funny. ‘The great tits of America’, what a line.” Betty was giggling as she spoke. 

“Truly.” Jughead said with a nod and a laugh, smiling wryly. 

“Oh! I brought your book back.” Betty said, pulling her backpack onto the table. It was powder blue, with light brown leather detailing, and had one keychain on each zipper. A pink, very soft looking pompom, and a little rubber peapod. “I also brought one of my own. It only seemed fair. It’s definitely not Stephen King, but it has some similar story elements, I think you might like it.” she shrugged, looking shy as she pushed both books towards him. 

“Hey, thanks. I don’t get near enough book reccs. I think people find it hard to find time for reading during the semester. For fun, anyway.” Jughead picked up the books, skimming the back of Station Eleven and nodding. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without reading. Books give me something to focus on and help me find scripts to follow.” Betty says easily, then immediately frowns. “Sorry, that probably sounded weird. Confusing? Both? I don’t mean theatre scripts, I mean social scripts. Like for dates, which I am totally failing at right now, especially since I don’t even think this is an actual date, god, I’m so sorry.” Betty shook her head, looking terrified at all her babbling as she finally just physically clapped her hands over her mouth. Jughead frowned, looking concerned. 

“Are you okay, Betts?” the nickname slips from his tongue, and he doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t think about how he really barely knows her. It just seems like the right thing to say. Betty’s face softens, her panic easing, and she nods. 

“Yes, but I have to tell you something.” she frowns, tilting her head “It’s not bad, just… different. Though some people find it bad.” she says with a shrug. 

“What is it?” Jughead asks. 

“I’m autistic. That’s what I meant by social scripts.” Betty shrugs, working to sound and look casual, but she knows her concern has to be written in every inch of her body image. Jughead just smiles at her. 

“That’s cool that you feel comfortable sharing that with me.” he says with a nod, and Betty feels every single muscle in her body relax.

“Thanks. I try to be open with it. Help people reevaluate their preconceptions.” she gives him a shy smile. 

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t really know what to do in these situations either. You know, dates. And stuff.” he gives her a shy, sideways smile, and Betty’s heart does a backflip. 

“So we agree? This is a date?” Betty’s voice is small and shy, but her eyes are hopeful. 

“I hope so, anyway.” Jughead says lightly “I’ve thought you were cute for awhile, actually. You come into the library a lot. I liked your taste in books.” 

 

“I thought you were cute too, actually.” Betty replies, a slight flush to her cheeks. “I’ve always spent a lot of time in the library, but I definitely started coming in more often when I noticed you working there. I just couldn’t think of a way to say something. We haven’t had classes together really, so I didn’t feel like I had an easy in. Then you smiled at all my Stephen King books.”

“That was a lot of King novels in one go.” Jughead said with a light laugh, smiling easily. 

“I’m doing a project. For fun, not for school. King is one of my case studies, so to speak. It’s about writers, especially of genre fiction of poetry, who have experienced some kind of severe trauma.”

“That’s really interesting.” Jughead raised his eyebrows and leaned in, smiling at her.

“Thanks. Cher thinks I’m crazy, giving myself a project like this, but I’m really interested in the ways narrative structure can help us work through difficult things, even if it’s indirectly at times.” Betty lights up, the subject clearly near and dear to her heart. 

“Did you walk here?” Jughead says suddenly. Betty nods. “Let me walk you home?” 

“That sounds nice.” she smiles, and they stand from the table and move towards the door dropping their crumb covered plates in the bus bin and empty cups in the trash. 

“Which way do you live?” Jughead asks, offering her his hand. She takes it, still smiling, and tugs him to the right. 

“I actually still live in the dorms. I know it’s uncommon after freshman year, but it’s just what’s easiest for me.” Betty shrugs, and Jughead admires the way her fingers feel laced between his. 

“I get that. I live really close to campus too. It helps me focus.” Jughead nods as he speaks, and Betty beams at him, swinging their arms slightly between them. 

“Exactly! Plus, walking to class means avoiding anxiety about traffic making me late.”

“Now that is smart.” Jughead laughed, looking over at her. They were nearing her building now, so he slowed his pace, wanting to prolong their time together, prolong the time her hand was clasped in his. 

“Would it be weird if I asked if you wanted to come up and watch a movie? I have a digital projector on loan from the media resource center for a project, so we can use one of the white walls in the living room.” Betty smiles at him, feeling slightly brave. 

“I don’t think that’s weird. I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard, as long as you have snacks.” Jughead grinned, and the two picked up their pace once more 

“Oh yes, I definitely have snacks. What should we watch?” Betty paused to look Jughead up and down, playfully evaluating him as she dug out her keys. “You look like a fan of the classics, maybe some art house, maybe some horror, some David Lynch?” 

“I like all of those things. God, am I really that predictable?” he chuckled. 

“I saw you writing a paper for The Art of Cinema in the library last week.” she stuck out her tongue, and Jughead let out a bark of laughter.

“You’re an enigma, Cooper.” he reached over, smirking, and tapped the tip of her nose. She looked at him funny for a moment, and then burst into giggles. 

“Well, then I hope you like mysteries,” Betty said, grinning. 

“Love ‘em.” Jughead replied quietly, before reaching over to gently tilt Betty’s face up towards his, and leaning down to meet her lips in a kiss. He can feel her smile, and she steps closer, into his arms, so she can put her arms around his neck. His hands go to her waist, and Betty decides any thought she ever entertained about how kissing must have been a little overrated is just complete nonsense. Kissing Jughead Jones felt like wearing a fresh from the dryer blanket cape in the dead of winter. Warm and soft and right. 

“Well,” she said, her voice a whisper, her face flushed and her lips pink and grinning, “Let’s go upstairs and watch a mystery then.” she beams up at him, hugging him tightly and leaning her chin into his chest. 

“Sounds like a plan.” he whispers back, grinning right back, both of them feeling light as air. Betty took his hand, lacing their fingers once more, and tugged him along through her apartment building’s doorway. He followed easily, enjoying her warmth and brightness and knowing as he watched her that something very, very right was happening.

**Author's Note:**

> so i didn't set out to make this an autistic betty fic, but it is a headcanon of mine, and it just kind of wanted to happen, so i rolled with it! title of this fic is from a john denver song, but only because it's heavily featured in whisper of the heart, a cute love story about books, which semi sort of inspired this fic. feel free to hmu on tumblr, i'm elizabethbettscooper!


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